Focusing on the familiar smells of bug spray, feed, and fertilizer that are as much a part of my life as poop, hay, and sweat, I keep reading. I need to make sure I get the right supplement, but the feeling of being watched is not going away.
Something doesn’t feel right.
Turning my head, I look down the aisle to the front of the store, the big picture window behind the register has a view of the dock where Chuck is still helping someone load feed in their truck.
Since Chuck refuses to get air conditioning for the store, sweat is trickling down the back of my neck, under my braid, from the summer heat. I’m sure the weird vibe I’m getting right now is only making it worse.
If my attack taught me anything, it’s not to tempt fate by ignoring my gut. I tuck both containers under my arms and walk to the register. I’ll bring back the one I don’t need later.
The plastic containers thunk against the old wooden checkout table that’s been in the store since I was a kid, and I’m pretty sure it was old then. I lean on the counter to wait for Chuck to be done. Being where I can see him makes me feel better.
I’ve known him since I started tagging along with my dad to the feed store when I was a little girl. He keeps a bag of suckers under his counter for the kids who come in with their parents. Mason and I would sneak behind the counter when he would help dad load the truck and get an extra sucker each. We always thought we were getting away with something, but I think he saw us, but didn’t say anything.
“Marley, I’ll be done loadin’ this truck in just a few minutes. Sorry it’s takin’ so long, hun,” Chuck yells from the shaded loading dock.
I try tosmile through the big window, but I think it probably looks more like I’m going to throw up. “Thanks, Chuck.” I wave and he turns back to the truck.
Feet scuffling on the floor behind me sends my heart rate up, I thought I was in here alone. I casually turn around to a man I’ve never seen before strolling up to the wall with hog wormer pills to pull a box off a hook to read the back.
He’s well dressed, definitely not dressed to be taking care of hogs. His shoes look expensive, and he has a big, shiny watch on his wrist. He’s giving me the same creepy vibes I got from ‘D’ the day of the wedding.
Should I just leave and go find Jax? I turn around and look at Chuck still slinging bags of feed into a truck bed with another man who looks to be a few years older than me. Do I wait? Am I being ridiculous? My gut tells me I’m not.
The man is between me and the door to outside, but his back is to me. I want to tell myself that I’m just being paranoid, but when my gut is talking, I listen. But, no one would do anything with Chuck right outside. Right?
I shouldn’t have told Jax to go without me.
Damn it!
Taking a deep breath, I abandon my two canisters and begin my walk to the door. My steps quicken as I walk behind him, and he turns and grabs my arm, pulling me into the insecticide room. Panic grips me, the sound of my blood whooshing in my ears is loud, and I can feel my pulse points beating against my skin.
He’s as stocky guy, but strong. He shoves his arm against my upper chest to hold me to the wall and shoves his knee between my legs before he slaps his hand over my mouth. His face is just inches from mine, his eyes are mean and boring into mine.
Fisting his shirt at his sides, I try to push him away, but he’s too big.
“Is Hallie still at your house? I have a message from the boss.” His breath next to my cheek reeks of cigarettes and garlic, I close my eyes and turn my face away from him.
Curling his fingers over my shoulder, he pulls me away from the wall and slams me against it again, my head hitting the wall. “Fucking answer me.”
Without opening my eyes, I shake my head and turn my face as far away from him as I can. His hand over my mouth is sweaty and smells like an ashtray.
“I’ll give you to the count of three before I do some damage to that pretty face of yours.” He huffs against my cheek, the hot air moving across my skin. “Or maybe I’ll bide my time and grab that pretty little niece of yours.”
My eyes fly open, and I turn my face back to him. That’s when relief washes over me, and I know everything is going to be okay.
Jax is prowling up behind him like a jaguar. Well, it looks like Jax. But the eyes that are focused on the man holding me against the wall are not Jax. There is someone else behind those eyes, something detached and cold.
His pupils are large, making the icy blue of his irises a small ring, and the way he’s watching the man in front of me is animalistic, almost feral. There is no sound with each slow step he takes, he’s as quiet as an apparition, and as scary as a demon.
Trying to swallow down my fear, the guy’s arm is pressed against my neck just enough that it makes it hard to swallow.
Jax never looks at me until he gets right behind the guy, his gigantic frame eclipsing the man trapping me, but it’s still not Jax. His eyes flick in my direction, fiercely looking over my face like he’s checking for wounds, and then move to the guy’s neck. That’s when I see the knife in his hand.
It’s one of those fancy knives, like throwing knives that are designed to fit comfortably in the palm. It’s silver and short,and the blade is sharpened on each side. He’s holding the blade like it’s an extension of his hand and he lifts it to the guy’s neck.
The guy’s eyes go wide, and he freezes when he feels the metal tip against his skin. His hand lifts off my mouth and the movement causes the tip of the blade to break the skin, making him freeze. Trying to be as still as possible, he slowly lifts his arm off my neck, and I suck in a deep breath.
Jax is frozen like a statue and those dark, angry eyes slide to me before he flicks his head to the side, telling me to get behind him. The guy’s knee slowly comes out from between my legs, and he lifts his arm from my neck to hold his hands up in front of him.
